I Want My Epidural Back (10 page)

I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I SPEND CRAZY
amounts of time in the bathroom with my little poop machines. Seriously, I just did the math and 17% of the time I spent with my kiddos this week was in the shitter. I shit you not. Which is why when my kid is taking like nine million years to take a dump, I'm constantly asking, “Are you done yet, are you done yet, are you done yet, now are you done?” over and over and over again. Can you imagine someone sitting there asking you that repeatedly while you're trying to squeeze out a brown one? Helllllo, future constipation issues. It's just one more way I'm F'ing up my kids. Awesome.

ME:
Let's go try to use the potty.

HOLDEN:
I don't have to.

ME:
Let's just try. You haven't gone since you woke up.

HOLDEN:
No, I don't have to.

ME:
Well,
I'm
going now, so let's try.

HOLDEN:
Only if you carry me.

ME:
Fine.

(I just didn't feel like dealing, so I carried him in. Yeah, I know you're probably thinking he's going to grow up to be an entitled asshole because I carried him to the bathroom one time.)

HOLDEN:
I want the big stall.

ME:
It's taken. Here's one that's open.

HOLDEN:
I want the big one.

ME:
Fine.

(Again, I don't feel like arguing, so we wait a minute and it opens up.)

HOLDEN:
What's this? What's this? What's this? What's this?

ME:
Ewww, Holden, nooo, that's gross, that's where people throw their, uhhh, stuff. Don't touch that! Don't touch that!!!! I said DON'T TOUCH THATTTTT!

HOLDEN:
I'm touching ittttt.

(Grrrrr.)

ME:
Do you want to stand up or sit down?

HOLDEN:

ME:
Do you want to stand up or sit down?

HOLDEN:

ME:
Fine, I'll go first.

HOLDEN:
(as soon as I'm sitting on the potty)
NOOOOOO, I WANTED TO GO FIRST!!!!

ME:
Then you should have gone.

HOLDEN:
(trying to push me off)
Wahhhhhhh, get off!!!

ME:
Holden, stop it right now. I'm done. Stand up or sit down?

HOLDEN:

ME:
Fine, here.

HOLDEN:
NOOOOO, I WANTED TO SIT!!!

ME:
Arrrghh, fine.

(As soon as he's sitting, Niagara Falls pours out of him.)

ME:
I thought you didn't have to go.

HOLDEN:
Do you hear that?

ME:
Yes.

HOLDEN:
I'm pooooping.

ME:
Awesome.

(Like four minutes later, which doesn't really sound like that long, but go ahead and count out 240 seconds and then imagine doing that while you're standing in a public restroom with nothing to do but watch the bulging purple vein on your rugrat's forehead.)

ME:
Are you done yet?

HOLDEN:
No.

ME:
Now are you done?

HOLDEN:
No.

ME:
NOW are you done?

HOLDEN:
Do you smell that?

ME:
Yes.

HOLDEN:
Is it stinky?

ME:
Yes.

HOLDEN:
I'm done.

ME:
Thank God. Bend over.

HOLDEN:
No, I don't need to wipe.

ME:
You do need to wipe. You pooped.

HOLDEN:
No, I didn't poop.

ME:
Yes, you did.

HOLDEN:
NO, I DIDDDDDN'T!!!

ME:
Look, there it is.

HOLDEN:
There's two. One. Two.

ME:
Yes, now bend over.

HOLDEN:
That one looks like a crocodile.

ME:
Totally. Now bend over.

(He puts his forehead on the bathroom floor. Awesome. Can you catch any diseases through your forehead? I unlock the door.)

HOLDEN:
I WANTED TO UNLOCK IT!!

ME:
Okay, unlock it.

(I relock it and wait while he tries to unlock it, but he can't figure it out.)

ME:
Do you want my help?

HOLDEN:
No.

(Insert the
Jeopardy
music here.)

ME:
Can I help you, buddy?

HOLDEN:
No.

ME:
Here, lemme help.

(Thank God he lets me this time and doesn't pitch a fit.)

ME:
Time to wash our hands.

HOLDEN:
I don't have to.

ME:
Yes, you do.

HOLDEN:
No, I didn't touch anything.

ME:
Yes, you did. And we always wash our hands after going potty.

HOLDEN:
No.

ME:
Yes.

HOLDEN:
No.

ME:
They will not let you leave this bathroom until you wash your hands. It's a rule.

(I don't know who the F “they” are, but he buys it.)

HOLDEN:
Don't turn it on for me.

ME:
You can't reach it. Do you want a lift?

HOLDEN:
No.

(He tries to reach the sink handle for a while.)

ME:
Can I help you?

HOLDEN:
No.
(big pause)
Helpppp meeee!!!

ME:
Now go ahead and wash them.

(He puts his hand under the soap dispenser.)

ME:
You need water first.

(He ignores me.)

ME:
Holden, the soap won't work without water.

(He still ignores me and starts to rub the soap without water, so I splash a little water into his hands.)

HOLDEN:
Nooooo!!!!

ME:
You need water. Rub it in. All over.

(He rubs the same spot on his palm for like 20 seconds.)

ME:
The tops. Your fingers. All over. Twenty seconds.

HOLDEN:
You count.

ME:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. Okay, rinse them off.

HOLDEN:
Count to 100.

ME:
No, that's good.

HOLDEN:
Count to 100.

ME:
89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100.
(He has no F'ing clue I started in the middle.)
Now wash them off.

(I have to lift him up like Superman so he doesn't touch the soaking-wet counter and get drenched.)

ME:
Here's a paper towel.

HOLDEN:
I wanted to get it.

(OMG, seeeeriously??? Can we pleeeease get out of here already?!!!)

ME:
Fine, get it.

(He gets his own paper towel. AFTER I lift him up because he can't reach and AFTER I put him down because the
motion sensor won't work for him so I have to get it for him. Imagine that.)

ME:
Now throw it in the trash.

HOLDEN:
I want to keep it.

ME:
It's dirty. Throw it in the trash.

(And he does and we finally walk out. And on the way out he drags his fingers along the wall of the public restroom. The wall that's probably been speckled with fecal matter at some time. Awesome.)

HUBBY:
What took you so long?

I give him the look of death.

Oh yeah, and this happens multiple times a day.

Let the potty training begin!!

LA LA LA LA LAAAAAA
, just walking to Zoey's bedroom to put some clothes away. I walk by my room. Normal. I walk by Holden's room. Normal. I walk by the bathroom. WTF? No, wait a sec, to seriously do this WTF justice, I need to increase the font size, bold the shit out of it, and add like a thousand exclamation marks.

WTF?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Zoey and Holden are standing there wiping their tushies with toilet paper. Okay, now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that the view of young kiddos wiping their
own
asses is better than a view of the Grand Canyon from a helicopter. And yup, that's usually right. But not this time. Remain calm, remain calm, remain calm, I tell myself. There has to be a reasonable answer.

ME:
Hey guys. Whatcha doin'?

HIM:
We're wiping.

HER:
Because we pooped.

Okay, so far these answers are reasonably normal.

ME:
You both pooped?

THEM:
Yes.

ME:
Like Zoey pooped and then waited until Holden was done so you could wipe at the same time?

HER:
No.

HIM:
We did it together!

HER:
Yeah, we shared the potty.

Nooooooo. Seriously? Seeeeeriously??? I've been trying to teach you guys to share things for years and THIS is when you decide to start? But I have to know.

ME:
(fearful)
Whatta you mean you shared it?

HER:
We shared it!

ME:
How?

HER:
We both got on.

I'm picturing him sitting on the potty with her behind him, you know, like the way they would ride a horse together or the log flume ride at an amusement park, only a totally different kind of log this time. Ewwwww. Are you kidding me? And
without
pants
on. But then Zoey proceeds to show me how I'm wrong and how actually they both sat sideways on the potty with their backs to each other. Awwww, tush to tush. How cute. NOT.

HER:
He pooped, and then I pooped, and then he pooped, and then I pooped.

Plop plop, fizz fizz, holy crap how F'ed up this is. I mean, I always wanted my rugrats to be close and do shit together. But AGGGHHHH, NOT LITERALLY!!!

ME:
Guys, that's gross. Don't do that again.

THEM:
Okay.

And they went off giggling together and we shall never speak of this again.

ZOEY:
My tummy hurts.

ME:
Do you have to poop?

ZOEY:
I don't want to go to school.

ME:
Do you have to poop?

ZOEY:
I'm not hungry.

ME:
Do you have to poop?

Seriously, one day I think this kid is going to grow up to think that going poop is the solution to EVERYTHING.

BOYFRIEND:
I'm just not sure this relationship is working out.

ZOEY:
Maybe you have to poop.

Sometimes the cat throws up on the carpet and I get really pissed off. But sometimes he throws up in the perfect place to teach my kids an important lesson about drinking too much and losing your dignity.